


Chicken

by Woofemus



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: Gen, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 15:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13437525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woofemus/pseuds/Woofemus
Summary: A perfectly normal day in Gormott.





	Chicken

The vast, expanse fields of Gormott have always been a beautiful sight. There’s nothing better than being able to look out toward the plains and see abundant greenery and wildlife found nowhere else in Alrest. Even the territorial Rotbart with its unsightly hugeness and danger, adds a certain charm to the otherwise calm plains.

The line has to be drawn for the Squood that’s idling in the middle of the field.

“ _Why.”_ Mythra’s the one asking the important question but unfortunately, no one has an answer for her.

“Ah! Special Inquisitor!”

Right at the perfect time, an Ardanian soldier comes running up to them, stopping perfectly in front of Mòrag, perfectly straightening himself stiffer than a tree, and saluting perfectly as well. “Good thing you came! There’s—”

“ _That_ , yes,” Mòrag answers rather flatly, staring hard at the soldier in hopes he’ll scrounge up some kind of excuse that’ll even sound satisfactory to Mòrag’s impossibly high standards.

“U-uh, yes, _that_!” The soldier loses his perfectly composed posture and squeaks so high that Nia’s ears flutter in irritation. “A salvager came to the base and while he was, uh, salvaging, he brought up,” he audibly gulps before continuing in a lower voice, “the Squood.”

Zeke giggles.

The soldier continues heedless of everyone glaring at Zeke. “Before we could take care of it, it flew off toward the field and now it’s been terrorizing anyone that gets near it.”

Mòrag turns to look at the grotesque monster. It seems to turn toward her at the same time and waves with one of its hooked shaped tentacles.

Her eyes flit over to the soldier. “You mean to tell me that _no one_ has been able to deal with it?”

“A-ah, um, well…” the soldier slumps his shoulders. “No, Special Inquisitor.”

Mòrag mutters something under her breath and, before anyone else can say anything, tells the soldier, “We’ll deal with it then.”

Mythra makes a disgusted face.

This is exactly how the group finds themselves engaged with a Squood. Mòrag and Brighid are in formation, diverting the Squood’s attention away as the others hack away at its giant tentacles.

Everything looks like it’s going well. Squoods are tenacious monsters, and the only way to get rid of one is to keep hitting it until it stops moving. Well, that’s true for most things, but most especially Squoods. At least, Mythra wants to hope that the more they hit it, the faster it’ll die and the less she’ll have to keep looking at it. The squishy sounds coming from the poor Squood are, frankly speaking, gross, although the giggling she can hear coming from Azurda is arguably worse.

No one realizes exactly what happens until it’s too late.

Or, more specifically, until they hear Nia’s screech that sounds like a mix between a yowling cat and the shrieking of something that doesn’t sound human before it suddenly dies out to a loud slam.

There’s a tentacle where Nia’s standing now. The tentacle slowly rises, and the flattened form of Nia comes into view.

“My lad—”

“NIAAAA! NOOOO!” Zeke screams out in dramatic fashion, drowning out Dromarch’s cry. Dromarch blinks and slowly looks over at Zeke in complete bewilderment, wondering if Zeke’s somehow become Nia’s Blade in the last three seconds.

Pandoria covers her ears. Unknown to everyone, Nia is muttering about Zeke being too loud for her to even rest in peace.

Nevertheless, with one duo unexpectedly taken out, everything else starts to go downhill. The Squood becomes enraged and starts rapidly spinning its tentacles. Zeke is too distracted being dramatic over Nia that he misses dodging and gets flicked by a tentacle. Rex’s had the unfortunate luck of firing his wire right when the tentacles start whirling around that now _he’s_ going round with them too. Meanwhile, Poppi’s picked up Tora, trying to both protect him and also use him as a shield.

Mòrag and Brighid look no worse for wear though their attacks have considerably slowed now that Nia isn’t backing them up. Or, well, since _no one_ is backing them up now.

Mythra’s been standing off to the side, watching everything play out. With her focused tactical analyzing, she comes to a decision.

Reaching out with a hand just as Rex starts whirling into view, she manages to grab his leg, pull him free, and set him down. “We’re getting out of here,” she yells, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Rex doesn’t argue and looks wholly relieved, and also incredibly sick. Mythra takes another look at him before carefully turning him around so she doesn’t have to see him lose his lunch in the next few seconds.

It doesn’t look like Mòrag and Brighid are listening, as they continue to dance all around the tentacles and set things on fire like they always do. “Mòrag! Brighid! Let’s go!”

They’re not listening, but Mythra swears she caught Brighid turning in her direction for a split second before turning back away.

Oh. So that’s what they want to do, huh.

Just as Zeke and Pandoria come running over to her, Mythra grabs Zeke and gestures toward Mòrag. “Only one way to do this,” she says, and he pales.

“R-really? Do I _have_ to?” he whines. Mythra rolls her eyes at him and takes off in a dash.

There’s little time for Brighid to react before she suddenly finds herself tackled and abruptly thrown over someone’s shoulder. The ether link between her and Mòrag breaks the same time Mòrag (and oddly enough, Zeke too) shouts. And, before Brighid can adjust so quickly to, well, _anything_ , she finds the Squood they’d been fighting getting _farther_ away.

The golden hair flying into Brighid’s face is all she needs to know who to get furious at.

“Mythra! What do you think you’re doing?! How dare you hold me in such a brutish way?!”

Mythra doesn’t even spare a glance behind her. “It’s getting too dangerous! We’re getting out of here _now_!”

“Lady Mòrag and I can handle the monster just fine!”

“And what about the rest of us?! Nia can barely stand on her feet after getting slapped by a tentacle!”

Both Brighid and Mythra share a grimace of sympathy.

But the truce is short lived when Mythra stumbles for a moment, which makes Brighid knock her head against Mythra’s back painfully. Brighid’s anger flares again.

“Lady Mòrag and I were planning on leading it away and finishing the job ourselves! You see it, it’s already keeling over!”

Mythra opens her mouth to retort but closes her mouth. Instead, she looks behind her, ignoring Brighid’s indignant (and utterly uncalled for) expression, toward the Squood that is, in fact, chasing after them now, and not keeling over in its death throes.

“… are you sure we’re seeing the same thing,” Mythra only says, biting back the _maybe you’d notice something if you’d only open your eyes._

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Ugh! You’re impossible to argue with when you’re like this!”

“ _Me?_ And what of _you,_ Mythra?! Have you grown so weak that your first instinct is to _run_ away?! That’s not what my journal described the Aegis as!”

“I—that has nothing to do with this! Don’t bring what I did in the past into here!”

“Then put me down!”

“No! Stop being so unreasonable!”

“Mythra, if you don’t _put me down right now_ , so help me, I will set us both on fire and I’m _sure_ you know firsthand how hot they burn! Which of us can last longer, hm?!”

The last of Mythra’s already razor-thin patience (not that she usually has any more than little) snaps as fast as Tora zooming after Tasty Sausages.

A red beam of light suddenly shines over both of them, following them even as Mythra continues to sprint down the field with Brighid thrown over her shoulder. WIthout even slowing her pace, Mythra whips her head behind her to meet Brighid’s furious expression with one of her own.

“Yeah?! You want to do this right now?! Come on then! Let’s settle this! Right here, right now! If you want me to beat you so badly that you’ll go crawling back into your Core Crystal—”

“You think I’m afraid of your Artifice?! You think I’m afraid of some giant beam of light that might vaporize me!? How about that, the Aegis not being to win against a Blade like _me_ without resorting to such cheap tricks—”

“ _Me?!_ Cheap tricks?! Your last so-called victory was a cheap shot! You honestly think—”

“Why can’t you just admit that you lost once?! Why don’t you do it then?! Just shoot!”

“You really think I won’t do it?! I’ll show you—”

“Ladies, _please!”_ Zeke screams from behind them.

His coat is still on fire but at least Mòrag isn’t on him anymore. He’d tossed her over to Poppi the first chance he got. Poppi’s flying through the air now and while Mòrag’s stopped struggling, Zeke can still feel her murderous glare on him that he’s half-afraid that she can shoot fireballs with her eyes.

Both Brighid and Mythra immediately stop arguing to glare at him. At least, he thinks Brighid is, he can’t be too sure with her most of the time. Okay, if he’s being honest, then all the time.

They all continue to stare at each other. Zeke puts on his most winning smile.

Siren’s aiming beam switches over to shine on him instead.

“O-okay, bye, have fun, I’m betting on Mythra!” Zeke squeaks out as he runs away.

By now, the Squood isn’t even chasing them anymore, not that anyone else really notices. It goes back to the middle of the field doing… whatever it is that Squoods do when left alone. At least until everyone returns, several hours later once the sun starts setting. Somehow, save for Mythra and Brighid, everyone looks worse for wear, but most especially burnt and crisp. Even the edges of Mòrag’s coat seem frayed.

No one says anything when they ready their weapons. Even when they finally exterminate the Squood, the whole group is silent. Without another word, they trek back to Torigoth for a well-earned rest (and completely separate Brighid and Mythra into two different rooms at the opposite ends of the hall at the inn). Mòrag pens a note to the soldiers to ban salvagers at the base for a whole year.

The fields of Gormott are beautiful once more.


End file.
